Rules and Consequences
by mandabunny2
Summary: Rules can be bent, amended, and circumvented, but they can't be broken. When they are, consequences happen. But are all consequences bad?
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** This idea wouldn't leave me alone. I decided to start getting it out so my brain wouldn't be as crowded. For the record, I did do some research on the NHL and California law for this story. I'm going to try to blend it with artistic license to make the story plausible, but I make no guarantees that everything will be completely accurate.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the show, Disney does. I am not in any way affiliated with Disney, the NHL, its commissioner Gary Bettman, or any branch of the California government.

* * *

Phil Palmfeather sat at his desk staring at the papers in his hand. He'd been looking over potential endorsement deals all afternoon. Any one of them would turn a hefty profit. Of course, he'd have to get Wildwing and the other ducks to sign any deal he negotiated. Which would be about as easy as pulling out his own teeth. Still, the commission he'd receive would be more than worth the trial of convincing the team.

He was currently reading the fine print of an offer for a kitty litter commercial. 'So what if they don't have any cats? I'll still make a fortune!' he reasoned with himself as the landline rang.

"Anaheim Pond, home of the Mighty Ducks. How can I help you?" Phil recited as he picked up the phone. He'd never seen the need for a secretary when he could do the job himself just as easily (and without an extra salary to pay). He continued to flip through pages as he nestled the receiver between his ear and shoulder, listening to the person on the other end. "You're talkin' to him, boobala…Commissioner Bettman!" Phil set the papers down, leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the desk, ready to schmooze the head of the NHL. "You know the ducks are really excited about playing in the finals. Been practicing nearly nonstop. I'm telling ya, those birds are going to win the Stanley Cup easier than…Problem? _What_ problem?" He sat forward suddenly, feet crashing to the floor. He listened quietly, eyes widening as each second passed. Eventually he stood up and slammed his fist onto the desk, loose papers scattering about him.

"**WHAT?!**"

* * *

Wildwing watched the puck as it was cycled between the other members of the team. They were practicing their blind passing, trying to send the puck to one another without actually looking at each other. So far they were doing a good job, and Wildwing looked forward to seeing his teammates in action at the next game.

Mallory received the puck from Grin and sent it to Nosedive, who slapped the puck at the opening between Wildwing's legs, only to have goalie slide them together at the last second, blocking the shot.

"Nice try, baby bro. Going to have to be a little quicker next time."

Nosedive skated behind the goal, grabbing Wildwing's water bottle off the net and taking a swig. "You just got lucky, Wing."

Wildwing crossed his arms and smirked at the teen. "Right, lucky enough to be able to see the puck coming from a mile away. And keep your germs to yourself," he added as he took the water bottle out of Nosedive's hand and playfully pushed him back away from the net.

Turning back to the rest of the team, he sipped from the bottle himself. "Nice job today, guys. Let's call it quits for now."

"Not a minute too soon, Wing. Looks like ya gotta break Phil's heart again," Duke commented, gazing up into the stands as their manager trudged down the stairs, talking loudly on his cell phone and waving a magazine around.

"Not another publicity stunt," Tanya groaned.

"I sense bad karma," Grin added.

Wildwing sighed. "Don't worry, guys. Whatever it is, I'll take care of it."

The team skated over to bench, waiting to see what scheme Phil had concocted this time.

"Do you know what you've done to me? I screened the questions for a reason! And then you go and make up stuff on the spot!" Phil shouted into the phone. "I don't care if it was a 'relevant question in the moment,' you don't deviate from the list! You'll be lucky if you ever work in this town again!" Phil ended the call and turned his attention to the ducks.

"Problem, Phil?" Wildwing asked.

"You bet there's a problem, booby! And it's all because of this!" Phil tossed the magazine into Wildwing's chest, causing the mallard to catch it awkwardly.

Wildwing got a better hold of the magazine and looked at the cover. "'Seventeen'? You mean a teen magazine is what's got you so upset?"

"It's the latest issue…with Nosedive's interview," Phil replied, glaring at said duck.

The rest of the team followed Phil's gaze and looked at the teen, curiosity and suspicion etched on their faces. "All right, baby bro, what did you do?" Wildwing asked.

Nosedive threw his hands up in defense. "Hey, all I did was answer the questions. I don't know why Phil's so riled up. He practically forced me into doing it."

"I'll tell you what you did," Phil growled, ripping the magazine out of Wildwing's hands and flipping through it. "There!" he cried when he got to the page he wanted. "Read it!" He handed the magazine back to Wildwing.

The duck cleared his throat and read it out loud. "Seventeen: 'What's your favorite food?' Nosedive: 'Tacos. Especially triple spicy ones.'"

"Gee, Phil, real shocking," Duke commented sarcastically.

"What, was he supposed to endorse Wiener World or something?" Tanya joked.

"Keep going," Phil told Wildwing.

"Seventeen: 'When's your birthday?' Nosedive: 'July first. At least I think that's when we figured it was, what with the calendar differences between here and Puckworld.'"

"Yep," Tanya interrupted, nodding at Nosedive. "You got it right."

Wildwing continued reading. "'Seventeen: 'How old will you be?' Nosedive: 'Seventeen.'"

"There! You see?" Phil exclaimed. The team stared at him blankly. Phil sighed. "You can't be turning seventeen, Nosedive."

"You know Phil, you're right. I'll just tell the universe that it has to stop aging me and let me stay sixteen forever. I'm sure it won't mind. Hey, maybe you can negotiate the deal for me. Take the universe out for drinks or something," Nosedive snickered.

Phil threw his hands up in exasperation. "You don't understand! Sixteen _or _seventeen, it's against the rules!"

"What rules?" Wildwing asked.

"The NHL eligibility rules. You have to be at least 18 to play."

"So how's he been playing? You knew Nosedive was sixteen."

"Well, I might have gotten a little creative when the paperwork was filled out," Phil admitted, rubbing his neck sheepishly as Wildwing scowled.

"So in other words, you lied."

"Hey, I _never_ lied. They just didn't ask the right questions. Anyways, that's not the point now," he added quickly as all the ducks glared at him.

"What is the point, Phil?" Mallory asked coldly.

"The point is that now we've got a boatload of trouble! The NHL commissioner called me furious. Apparently _he's_ been getting calls from the government about having a minor in the League!"

"So what, I can't play now?" Nosedive asked. "That's totally lame!"

Phil shook his head. "It's worse than that, booby. The commissioner's coming here tomorrow for a meeting with you and the team, along with representatives from Social Services and the Department of Education. Apparently you're considered a 'truant minor' or something."

Mallory groaned. "Nice going, Phil."

"Yeah, and I thought you couldn't, uh, stoop any lower," Tanya added.

"Hey, hey, hey! What about all I've done for you guys, huh?" Phil retorted. "Who's the guy that made sure you had a place to live?"

"Your former lawyer, when he didn't look over our contracts closely enough," Duke answered.

"Well, technically, but who's the guy who gave you all a career? Who's the guy that convinced the NHL to give this team a chance? Who's the guy that got everyone legal residence status with the government? Who's the guy that kept the public from panicking when they found out that six _alien ducks _had landed on the planet?"

Wildwing rubbed his temples. "Okay, Phil, we get it. We owe you. A lot. And trust me, we're grateful for everything you've done for us. This just isn't the best situation to be in."

The team nodded. As much as they hated to admit it, Phil had saved them a lot of trouble when they'd first arrived on Earth. Of course, he'd been working overtime since then to give them all as many headaches as possible. And now he'd finally succeeded in handing out a mass migraine.

There was silence for a few minutes as everyone grappled with the situation. Nosedive finally broke it. "I'm not going to have to wear a suit or anything for this meeting, am I?" The team smiled at this, a few chuckles emitting from the ducks.

"Somehow I don't think it will matter too much, Dive," Wing answered, ruffling the teen's hair. "What time are all these people going to be here, anyway?" he asked Phil.

The manager shrugged one shoulder. "The commissioner said he'd be here around nine tomorrow morning. I'm assuming the others will be here then too, though I guess they could arrive sooner."

Wildwing nodded. "Well, Dive, I guess you don't need to worry about the suit, but you're going to have to be up early."

Nosedive groaned. "Great, as if this wasn't going to be bad enough. Now I'll be sleep deprived. "

"Go to bed early," Grin suggested as the ducks began skating towards the locker room.

Nosedive stared after him. "Why'd he choose now to start making sense?" he asked Wildwing.

"I don't know," he replied, "but it's not a bad idea."

"Not funny, Wing."

"Not trying to be. I want you in bed by ten. Up at six." Wildwing wrapped an arm around his brother's shoulder as they started after their teammates. "Don't worry, Dive. Everything will work out fine."

"You sure bro?"

"Positive. After all, we've got Phil as our manager."

Nosedive snorted. "Yeah, it's not like he's ever managed to screw things up."

"Come one, baby bro. Even though he's annoying the vast majority of the time, Phil is usually excellent at his job."

"Yeah, _usually."_

"Have a little of faith in him, Dive. After all, his butt's on the line just as much as ours. He won't let anything too bad happen. And neither will I."


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** First, thanks for the reviews! I really appreciate them. Second, I wasn't planning on this chapter taking as long as it did. I figured I'd have it done about three weeks ago. However, it is about double the length of the first chapter, so I guess that's something.

Again, I did look up parts of California law and NHL regulations. Most of it is accurate, but I did take a few liberties. Do not hurt me if there's any horrible mistakes. Of course, corrections/constructive criticism are welcome!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the show, Disney does. Nor do I own Cool Whip, Kraft does. I am not in any way affiliated with Disney, the NHL, its commissioner Gary Bettman, or any branch of the California government. I have taken extreme liberties with Mr. Bettman. Do not take his character as an accurate representation of him.

* * *

Wildwing had a restless night. Despite his constant reassurances to his little brother, he couldn't convince himself that everything would turn out okay. Phil's concerns about the NHL were nothing compared to Wildwing's fear of the State of California. His knowledge about social services mainly came from movies and television. In everything he'd seen, social workers only came into the picture when there was a possibility of removing the child from the home. The thought of Nosedive being taken away kept Wildwing from getting more than a couple hours of sleep.

Still, he woke up to the alarm much easier than his brother.

Wildwing crossed their shared room to shut off the beeping. "Come on Dive, time to get up."

Nosedive gave a mumbled response from under his pillow. When left to his own devices, the teen took his sweet time getting out of bed. With that in mind, Wildwing turned on the lights and grabbed Nosedive's pillow off his head. "Mind repeating that?"

Nosedive shut his eyes against the brightness. "I said no sane duck would get up at this hour."

"It's a good thing you've always been a little crazy then, isn't it?" Wildwing joked. "Seriously, Dive, you need to get up and going. We've only got three hours until those people are going to be here."

"Three hours is more than enough time," Nosedive yawned, pulling the blankets over his head. "Just give me ten more minutes, Wing."

"Nosedive, it can take you an hour just to find clean clothes. Now come on, hit the showers and get dressed, and I'll make you breakfast."

The teen poked his head back out. "Pancakes?"

"Sure."

"With M&M's?"

Wildwing sighed. "Yes, with M&M's."

"And whipped cream?"

"Nosedive!"

"Alright, alright." Nosedive jumped down from his bunk and stretched, running a hand through his hair. "Man, I'm going to need to do some serious conditioning to work these things out," he said as his hand caught in the tangles.

Wildwing smiled. "Guess you'd better get started then, baby bro."

"Yeah, yeah," Nosedive replied as he headed to the adjoining bathroom. "And don't forget the whipped cream, Wing!"

* * *

Sure enough, an hour later Wildwing, still in his pajamas, set a plate stacked with M&M pancakes on the table, along with a tub of Cool Whip. He glanced up as the doors swooshed open.

"Gotta sweet tooth this morning, Wing?" Duke asked as he came into the kitchen.

Wildwing shook his head. "I needed a motivator for Nosedive to actually get up when the alarm clock went off."

Duke looked at the spread, then back at his captain. "Think the kid really needs that much sugar?"

"Probably not. But I figured it was more important to make sure he was ready for today."

The older mallard nodded, and went to start a pot of coffee. "Is the kid still down about it?" he asked as he spooned grounds into the filter.

"I don't think so," Wildwing said, sitting down. "He seems more upset about our season possibly being ruined."

"That's what I was talkin 'bout." Duke poured water into the coffee maker, then hit the start button. He went to sit next to Wildwing as it brewed. "I'm guessin you're more concerned with our other guests."

"You mean the people who are coming to see why Dive hasn't been in school and if he'd be better off in foster care?"

Duke was slightly startled. He'd figured Wildwing was concerned about his brother, but didn't realize he was scared about Nosedive being taken away. "You're pretty nervous 'bout this, huh?"

"You could say that." Wildwing ran a hand through his short white locks. "It's not that I'm not concerned about the team, too. Believe me, I am. It's just…"

"Nosedive's your brother."

Wildwing nodded.

Duke thought for a few minutes. "I don't know, Wing," he said finally. "I think ya might be jumping the puck a bit. Phil never said anything about them wantin ta take Nosedive away."

"Do you know any other reason a social worker would be coming?"

"Cause they found out the kid's a kid. It's their job ta check on his welfare." The coffee maker beeped and he got up to pour himself a cup. "They'll probably just ask a bunch of questions and fill out a bunch of forms. Ya want a cup?"

"Sure. So you don't think we've got anything to worry about from the government?" Wildwing asked as Duke handed him a full mug.

Duke sipped his coffee. "Not too much. I figure the worst that'll happen is Phil gets swamped with paperwork and we'll have ta pay some money. Does this taste weird ta ya?"

Wildwing drank, and immediately regretted it. "I think 'incredibly bitter' are the words you're looking for," he said as he pushed the drink away from him.

"Yeah, I thought so. Guess I didn't put enough grounds in." The two then sat in silence, staring at their mugs.

A few minutes later, Nosedive strolled in, hair still slightly damp. "Cool, thanks Wing!" he exclaimed when he saw his breakfast. He pulled up a chair and plopped down, spooning generous amounts of whipped cream onto the pancakes. "Bathroom's all your's, bro."

Wildwing stood up. "Try not to eat those all at once, okay Dive?"

"Washa aking bou?" Nosedive asked, mouth already full to bursting with pancake.

"_That's_ what I'm talking about. Just remember, chewing's healthy," he reminded his brother as he headed back towards their room. "Thanks for the coffee, Duke!" he called over his shoulder.

"Anytime, Wing," Duke replied as he went to pour the barely touched beverage down the sink.

* * *

An hour and a half later, the whole team met in Phil's office. Their manager was already joined by three men and a woman, all dressed in business attire. They stood when the ducks entered the room.

"Boobies! Great, you're here!" Phil cried, grabbing Wildwing and pulling him close. "Follow my lead and do not tick these people off," he whispered to the other ducks over the captain's shoulder. "Well," he continued, letting go of Wildwing and facing the visitors, "shall I introduce this wonderful, loyal, hard working team? Here's Tanya, Duke, Nosedive, Grin, Mallory, and of course, our very honorable, very trustworthy team captain, Wildwing."

"Phil's sure laying it on thick," Mallory whispered to Duke. He gave a half-smirk.

One of the men stepped forward and shook hands with Wildwing. "Gary Bettman, NHL Commissioner. This is my assistant, Paul Hunter," indicating another of the men.

"Nice to meet you Mr. Flashblade," the man said, offering his hand.

"Likewise," Wildwing responded automatically.

The third man came forward. "Peter Robinson, California Department of Education."

"Pleasure," Wildwing replied as his hand continued getting shook.

"Mary Taylor, Child Welfare Services," the woman said, finishing the introductions.

Wildwing grimaced at the affiliation, but shook her hand nonetheless. "Wonderful," he managed to force out.

Eventually his hand was set free. _What a weird formality_,he thought to himself.

"Well," Phil broke, "how about we all get comfy, huh?" He indicated the folding chairs he'd set up around the room. The visitors returned to their seats on one side of Phil's desk, while the ducks arranged themselves on the other side.

"I suppose we should get down to business," Mr. Bettman stated as Mr. Hunter handed him a stack of folders. "I believe Mr. Palmfeather has already filled you in on our conversation yesterday about this?" he asked, holding up a copy of the Seventeen issue.

"Yes," Wildwing told him.

"Then you are aware of your team's serious violation of the League's eligibility rules?"

"Our manager filled us in on that too, Mr. Bettman. Though I would like to say that before yesterday, none of us knew of the rule, or that Nosedive's age wasn't recorded correctly," he added, shooting a look at Phil.

"Well, that certainly is interesting," the commissioner replied, turning towards Phil. "Mr. Palmfeather, I believe you took care of all the paperwork when the team was added to the League, correct?"

"Yeah, that's right," Phil answered, sweating slightly.

"So you're the one that lied about Nosedive's age being eighteen instead of sixteen?"

The ducks all focused on him. Even though their livelihoods were on the line, they were still very curious about how Phil would handle intense scrutiny about a fraud charge from the head of the NHL. They didn't think he would be able to find a loophole to get out of this one.

"I _never_ lied!" Phil retorted. "I didn't even fill out his form!"

"Oh? Then who did?"

"Your assistant," Phil told him smugly.

The commissioner glanced at the man next to him, who seemed surprised the conversation had turned to him.

"Is that true, Mr. Hunter?" Mr. Bettman asked.

Mr. Hunter cleared his throat and looked through his briefcase. "Um, well technically, Mr. Bettman," he stammered as he pulled out some papers. "When the team first joined in June last year, we were having some issues with the fax machine, so I asked Mr. Palmfeather for the information on the player forms over the phone and filled it in myself. I can assure you, though, I didn't put anything down that Mr. Palmfeather himself didn't tell me himself," he finished.

Mr. Bettman turned his attention back to Phil. "Did you tell Mr. Hunter that Nosedive was eighteen?"

"No!" Phil insisted. "I remember the whole conversation quite clearly. He asked for Nosedive's birthday and I gave it as July first. Then he asked how old he was. I told him Nosedive would turn nineteen."

"So you did lie," Mr. Bettman concluded. "Mr. Palmfeather…"

"It wasn't a lie!" Phil protested. "I never said Nosedive was turning nineteen _that_ year. Just that he _would_ turn nineteen. And, forbidding some horrible tragedy, he _will_ turn nineteen. Eventually."*****

The room stared at Phil in shock. Wildwing couldn't tell if the commissioner was trying to keep from laughing or screaming.

Finally, Mr. Bettman turned back to look at Mr. Hunter. "You didn't ask him _when_ the player would be nineteen?" he asked in a very calm tone.

"Well…I mean, I don't really remember exactly what I said, sir. It was a year ago."

"I see." Mr. Bettman looked at Wildwing. "Well, Mr. Flashbade, it seems you have a very… _creative_ manager."

"I wouldn't argue with you, Mr. Bettman," Wildwing said. Secretly, he was kind of impressed with Phil's skills. Upset the whole situation was taking place, but still impressed.

The commissioner opened up one of folders and pulled out some papers. "Creative or not, having a minor play was against rules, and the League has decided to ban the Mighty Ducks for the rest of the season."

Despite the fact they'd all knew it was likely, the team still heaved a collective sigh at the ruling.

"It really is a shame," Mr. Bettman continued. "Considering all the exceptions we made for you at Mr. Palmfeather's insistence, we might have been able to work something out."

Wildwing stared at him. "You might have?"

"Well, yes. I mean, we did let you play with only six of you, hardly enough for a decent team-"

"No offense," Mr. Hunter interjected.

"-plus the fact that two of you are female-"

"Again, no offense."

"-and the fact that you are, well, alien ducks-"

"Seriously, no offense," Mr. Hunter insisted.

"-so I'd hardly think amending the rules to let a juvenile participate would have been much more difficult, at least in this situation. We might still be able to for next season."

At this Nosedive couldn't sit still. "Alright!" he exclaimed. "You totally rock, Bettman!"

"Nosedive, don't you think you might want to, uh, let the commissioner finish talking?" Tanya warned.

Mr. Bettman twisted his face. "I'll take it as a compliment. All the same, there's still the matter that Mr. Robinson and Ms. Taylor are here about. That needs to be taken care of before we could ever accept Nosedive into the League officially."

The two, who had been quietly observing the discussion, nodded. "The fact is, the State of California is very concerned about Nosedive," Mr. Robinson said. "Legally, he should have been attending school this past year. Since his hockey stats showed him as an adult, no one in the district bothered to report it until that article came out. Now he's been reported as truant, and Ms. Taylor and I have gotten involved."

Wildwing nodded, growing tense. "Well, I can assure you that Nosedive's been well looked after."

"That's not the problem, Mr. Flashblade," Ms. Taylor interjected. "I'm sure Nosedive's a wonderful young ma…er, duck," she corrected, "and I have no doubt that you've taken good care of him thus far. However, we simply cannot ignore the fact that he has not been receiving the education he needs."

Wildwing tried to gulp as his mouth went dry.

"A judge has ordered a $100 fine for not making sure Nosedive was in school. Considering the fact that you haven't been previously notified about the issue, the penalty is lighter than it would have been under different circumstances," she finished.

The goalie relaxed his muscles as relief overwhelmed him. "I think that's more than fair," he said, forcing himself to breathe calmly.

The social worker smiled. "Of course, you will have to remedy the situation as soon as possible."

"California law compels children to attend school until they turn eighteen," Mr. Robinson continued for her. "That would require Nosedive to be enrolled this fall."

"I have to go to _**high school**_?" Nosedive exclaimed, jumping up. "How am I supposed to play hockey if I'm in high school?"

"Nosedive, sit _down_," Mallory hissed, standing up to grab the teen's shoulders and forcing him back in his seat.

He crossed his arm. "Alright, girly-girl, relax, would yah?"

"You're one to talk," she mumbled.

"Anyways," Mr. Robinson went on, "Nosedive would be required to enroll in school. However, none of us," he said, indicating himself, Mr. Bettman, and Ms. Taylor, "think that would be in his best interest. High school can be a difficult place for anyone perceived as different, and Nosedive would likely be lost in some of the classes. Because of that, we are willing to allow an alternative."

"What kind of alternative?" Wildwing inquired as Nosedive looked interested.

"If Mr. Bettman is willing to write a letter of request as potential employer, Nosedive would eligible to take the GED test when he turns seventeen," Mr. Robinson explained.

"That means I wouldn't need to go to high school?" Nosedive asked hopefully.

Mr. Robinson nodded. "As long as you passed. I should tell you, though, I highly doubt you'd be able to."

"Then why bother offering it?" Wildwing asked. He wasn't thrilled with someone raising his brother's hopes just to crush them.

"Well, he might to be able to pass before school started in September, but it would require him to do some serious studying. The GED test has five parts: reading, writing, math, science, and social studies. I'm not sure what his abilities are in the first four parts, but I don't think he'd have been able to pick up everything the social studies portion covers in just the year you all have been here."

"But if he did pass, he'd be exempt from school?"

"Yes, Mr. Flashbade. The GED is a high school equivalency test. If he passed, he'd have a certificate held in trust for him until he turned eighteen."

Wildwing turned to Mr. Bettman. "And if he passed, he'd be eligible to play next season, along with the rest of the team.

The commissioner nodded. "Most likely, yes. There would be some formalities, but the pros of having the team, including Nosedive, in the League would overcome any obstacles that may arise. I'd also be more than happy to write the letter of request."

"Well, baby bro, what do you think?" Wildwing asked the teen. "Do you want to try to pass the test, or start school in the fall? It's your decision."

"There's no way you could get me to go to one of those schools!" Nosedive exclaimed. "I've heard the horror stories about those places. Thrash and Mookie don't lie, bro."

"I guess he'll take the test," Wildwing told Mr. Robinson.

He nodded. "In that case, I highly recommend you get him a tutor. Again, I doubt he'll be able to pass the social studies portion without some sort of formal instruction." He stood and went to shake Wildwing's hand.

The mallard stood to receive him, still not thrilled with the custom. "I'll certainly take the advice."

As Mr. Robinson left the room, Mr. Bettman and Mr. Hunter also stood and went to shake Wildwing's hand in parting. "I hope you know none of this is personal to your team," Mr. Bettman said. "This is not at all how I was planning on finals season going this year. But it is my job."

"I understand, commissioner. I thank you for being so accommodating."

"Well, if I'm being perfectly honest, I'd hate to see the League lose any of you. If I may be blunt, you're all great for business. This whole situation is going to be very embarrassing for us."

Wildwing turned and stared at his team, who shared his look of confusion.

"Oh, Mr. Palmfeather," the commissioner added as he stood in the doorway, "I'll be sure to describe your 'creativity' to my colleagues when we're discussing what sort of fine should leveled at the team."

"Fine?" Phil asked, face paling.

"Whatever the circumstances, there was still an unauthorized minor playing this whole season. A fine is inevitable. Good day."

And with that, the team was left with Ms. Taylor, was jotting stuff down in a notebook. "Now that the truancy matter is settled, there something else I need to discuss with you, Mr. Flashblade," she said, looking up from the pages.

"Um, sure," Wildwing replied, sitting back down. After he found out the social worker was only announcing a small fine, he'd almost forgotten about her.

"Are you Nosedive's guardian?"

"Yeah, I'm the one who's been taking care of him."

She smiled. "Again, I'm sure you've done a wonderful job. What I meant was are you his _legal_ guardian? When you're manager worked with the government when you first got here, did he disclose Nosedive's age and make you officially responsible for him?"

Wildwing looked at Phil, who was still recovering from the shock of a NHL fine. "Well, Phil?"

"Huh? Oh, sure, I took care of that before I ever went to the League about you guys. The papers are in the safe with the rest of your documents," he said, jerking his thumb towards the wall safe behind his desk.

"Do you need to see them?" Wildwing asked Ms. Taylor.

She shook her head. "I can check with our records department. They should have a copy." She stood and held out her hand. Wildwing was about to take it for yet another shake, when he saw a small piece of paper instead. "My card," she stated. "If you want any more information on the GED or need help with anything else, give me a call."

"Thanks," Wildwing said, taking the card and sticking it in his pocket.

"Of course. Good luck on your test," she told Nosedive. "It was nice meeting all of you. Have a good day." She shut the door behind her.

And with that, the team was left alone with Phil.

"A fine! Can you believe it? A stinking fine! I can't believe it!" he yelled.

"It could have been worse, Phil," Grin stated calmly.

"It could have been _much_ worse," Wildwing agreed. "I think we can all handle a couple of fines. At least we can still play next season."

"Assuming someone passes his test," Mallory amended, staring at the back of Nosedive's head.

"Hey, I'm a smart duck!" the teen protested. "I happen to watch the most sophisticated and educational of television programs."

"I don't think it matters, Dive," Wildwing said before a war over Bernie the Bear's educational value could be started. "Mr. Robinson was right. You're going to need tutoring before you take this test."

Nosedive rolled his eyes. "Great, summer school. Just what I always wanted."

"I know, Dive, but it's just something you've got to do. Phil, do you think you could start looking for a tutor?"

Phil jumped up from his desk. "What? We can't afford a tutor! We've got an unknown fine coming our way!"

"So what do you propose we do?" the team captain asked, humoring the manager for the moment.

"I'll tutor him," he offered.

At this idea, Nosedive grabbed Wildwing by the collar. "If you have any love for me at all, do NOT leave me in the hands of Phil!" he pleaded.

Wildwing pried Nosedive's hands off his shirt. "Relax baby bro, we can definitely find money for an actual tutor. Right, Phil?" he said, giving the man a look that made it clear there was no room for arguing.

Phil sighed. "Oh, all right. I'll find a tutor. Now you ducks get out of here. I'm going to have to work overtime to make up for all this lost money!" he cried, motioning the ducks out the door. "And don't come complaining to me about any endorsement deals!" he finished, shutting the door in the ducks' faces.

* * *

*****Apparently Mila Kunis did something similar when auditioning for That 70s Show. Her brilliance, not mine.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:**

I finally have this chapter done! It was trying, and involved a lot editing, but I think it turned out coherent and should set up some other stuff down the road. I've also been outlining, and have the next couple of chapters fairly structured. Hopefully it will make writing them a little easier.

Again, thanks for the reviews!

**Disclaimer:**

I don't own the show, Disney does. Apparently they also own 80% of ESPN. I own none of the other 20%. I am not in any way affiliated with Disney, the NHL, its commissioner Gary Bettman, California Sate University, or ESPN.

* * *

Wildwing took a thumbtack from Tanya. "Are you sure this is a good idea, Phil?" he asked as he secured a flyer to a bulletin board.

"Trust me, booby, this is genius!" the manager responded. "Colleges are great places to find tutors!"

Wildwing, Tanya, and Phil were finishing hanging fliers Phil had printed up. After spending the majority of the day visiting various locations Phil recommended, they were now finishing an hour of wandering the California Sate University, Fullerton's Student Union. Sure enough, they had seen numerous other fliers either requesting or advertising summer tutoring services.

"I don't know, Phil. I mean, I don't think these are exactly the most intellec…intell…uh, smartest people to choose from," Tanya observed, motioning to a group of men in the arcade wearing clown wigs.

"Tanya, babe, it's summer! They're supposed to act like that," Phil argued.

Wildwing shook his head and started leading them back to Phil's car. "I still think going through a professional organization might be better."

Phil scoffed at the idea. "Professionals are for amateurs. They'll rob you blind! This way we get the best deal imaginable: a college-educated person with all the information fresh in their brains, who's also poor and desperate for any job they can get. Trust me, it's a great idea!"

"Do you ever, you know, not think about money, Phil?" Tanya asked as they turned onto the street.

"Hey, why pay for something you can get cheaper somewhere else?" Phil countered. "I've just got good business sense."

Wildwing stopped as they reached Phil's car. "Uh, Phil…did you check to see if we could park here?"

"No, why?"

"That's why," Wildwing replied, pointing to a piece of paper under one of the car's wipers.

Phil snatched the paper up and looked at it. "You've got to be kidding me! Sixty bucks for not having a parking permit?"

"Well, actually Phil, you might wanna, uh, double that," Tanya said, handing him another piece of paper under the other wiper. "Apparently you're also blocking the flow of traffic."

Phil looked at the tickets in his hands and clenched his jaw.

"You okay, Phil?" Wildwing asked as parts of their manager's face began to turn crimson.

"Just…get in the car," Phil replied through his teeth as he opened the driver's side door.

Tanya and Wildwing exchanged glances. "Um, why don't you take the front seat, Wildwing," Tanya offered, quickly climbing in the back.

"Thanks Tanya," he replied dryly, getting in as Phil started the engine.

They started the drive back to Anaheim, listening to the baseball stats on the radio.

_"Now switching over to hockey, the NHL has announced the revised schedule for the Stanly Cup finals. Dallas is ready to take the suspended Mighty Ducks of Anaheim's spot against-"_

Phil switched the radio to a jazz station, knuckles visibly white against the steering wheel.

Wildwing sighed and turned his head to look at Tanya. "I hope the rest of the team's having as much fun as we are."

* * *

"Dude, that's a total bummer," Thrash stated.

Nosedive had just finished filling in his two human friends on the details of the team's suspension, plus his own mandated education. He perused the shelves of Captain Comics as they shared in his suffering.

"At least you don't have to go to an actual high school," Mookie said.

"Yeah, but spending all this time studying is still going to seriously suck." Nosedive countered, leafing through the latest Zor comic. He added it to a growing stack in his arms.

"So did you have to cancel any major summer plans for this tutoring stuff?" Thrash inquired.

Nosedive carried his stack of comics to the counter, setting them down by Mookie so she could ring them up. "Weren't you listening, Thrash? We got kicked out of the finals! No Stanley Cup for us, man! Our summer plans went out the window!"

"You didn't have anything planned for after that?" Thrash asked in disbelief. "No saving the world from an alien menace? No trips to alternate universes? No dangerous adventures where you risk life and limb?"

"No lame family vacations to the middle of nowhere, with everyone stuck in a car together for days getting on each other's nerves, and the only radio station available has evangelical preachers talking nonstop about the end of the world?" Mookie added as she took Nosedive's money for the comics.

He shook his head and pocketed the change she handed back. "I don't think anyone planned something like that," he said, silently grateful for the fact.

"Dive, man, you've got to find something to do! Be a shame to spend your whole summer studying," Thrash lamented.

"Looks like it's going to happen that way." Nosedive gathered the comics into his arms. "At least I've got a couple days worth of prime reading to look forward to," he said and headed towards the exit. "See you guys later," he called as he pushed the door open.

"See you Dive!" Thrash called back as he and Mookie waved to their feathered friend.

* * *

Grin stared at the crossword puzzle, thinking intently. Realizing the answer, he chuckled softly and filled in the last six across. Finally finished, he set his pen down. He arched his back and cracked his knuckles.

For the last few hours, Grin had been enjoying some quiet time at the park. He unfolded his newspaper and spread it out on the table he was sitting at. He'd already read the comics and so turned to the only other part of the newspaper that usually brought him joy: the weather section.

After confirming that it was, in fact, warm and sunny outside and would be for the next week, Grin flipped the paper back to the front page. Looking back at him was a picture of the team and the headline that had initially compelled him to buy the paper in the first place:

**BIRDS OF A FEATHER SUSPENDED TOGETHER!**

Despite the fact that the headline was horrendously cheesy and only worthy of a pity-laugh, if anything, Grin couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment. Logically, he knew that the meeting had gone as well as anyone could hope, and the decisions made were fair. However, logic didn't stop the emotional side of him from being emotional.

And having those emotions made Grin feel guilty. Wildwing had been noticeably worried about Nosedive before their meeting, and just as noticeably relieved afterwards. Certainly concern over one's sibling or other loved one is much more important than a hockey championship. Still, Grin felt how he felt, and no amount of meditation had yet eased his mind. It probably didn't help that his own aura was being clouded by those of the rest of the team. Apparently everyone at the Pond had something troublesome on their mind.

So now Grin sat in the park, feeling somewhat lighter in spirit. He casually flipped through pages of the newspaper, attempting to ignore the numerous negative headlines about world events. A page of ads in the classifieds caught his attention. He scanned it with interest, and tore the page out.

Grin got up and tossed the rest of the newspaper into a nearby recycling bin. Folding the ad and sticking it in his pocket, he walked over to his Duckcycle to head back to the Pond.

* * *

Mallory slumped onto a sofa in the rec room. Wildwing had cancelled practices for awhile, hoping to give the team a break. Mallory didn't enjoy breaks. She was used to routine training and a set schedule of activities from her commander. They gave her something to do every day and a goal to reach towards.

Sure, she could always practice or work out on her own. In fact, she had been for the last couple days. It simply didn't satisfy her desires. There was no tangible purpose to it: no enemy to fight, no team to beat, not even the element of competition between her and the other ducks. And no amount of sweat and sore muscles could hide the fact that, at the end of the day, all she'd accomplished _was _sweat and sore muscles.

So, admitting defeat, Mallory turned on the TV in an attempt to numb her mind. She flipped through the channels, stopping when an image of the team popped up on ESPN.

_"-crazy revelation that the Ducks' center, Nosedive Flashblade, isn't eighteen yet. The NHL commissioner released a statement blaming the issue on a clerical error and miscommunication between the team and the League. Now the team's been suspended and their season essentially nullified. What are your thoughts on this, Mike?"_

_"Tony, I think you summed it up great. This is crazy! The commissioner can it call it a miscommunication or an error or whatever he wants, but it all boils down to this: a minor-basically a child-has been playing in a professional, adult league all season. It's insane!"_

_"What about you, Dan?"_

_"I'm with Mike on this one, Tony. I think the commissioner's story is insane. I'm not sure what sort of miscommunication could happen where you get someone's age wrong. That's a pretty easy question. I don't know if the team lied to try to make him eligible, if the NHL overlooked it and lied because they wanted the whole team to play as some sort of publicity gimmick or whatever, but someone lied at some point."_

_"Do you think the penalty was fair? I mean…Just to fill in our viewers, the team's getting a currently unannounced fine and is suspended for the rest of this season. Apparently if they can work out a deal with the NHL regarding the age issue, the whole team will be welcomed back in the fall. If not, they'll need to get a replacement player. So Dan, do you think that's a fair punishment?"_

_"I think it's as fair as we could expect, Tony. We've never had something like this go down before. As far as I know, there's nothing on the rulebooks about what happens if player eligibility is violated. I think suspending the team is the best choice the League could make in this situation. I will say this: they haven't released how much the fine is going to be. I think it should be substantial and make clear that this is not okay, but I don't think they can do anything more than they have except for kicking the team out of the League. I don't think would be a wise move. I guarantee you there'd be a huge fan backlash, and I'd bet that something would come out seriously implicating the NHL in some sort of cover-up. I think they've saved their own asses here."_

_"Mike, what do you think?"_

_"I think this team has gotten so much special treatment already, I don't think they deserve any more! If this was any other team, the player would be kicked out of the League along with anybody who helped cover it up. How old's this kid? Sixteen, seventeen? A **normal person** that age is supposed to be in school, maybe in a youth league, not out on the professional ice violating rules and laws. This is saying to any other team, any other player, that it's okay to break any rule you want as long as you make the League money! So no, I don't think it's fair!"_

_"Thank you guys for your input. It's definitely a weird situation that's not going to be resolved overnight. Whatever your thoughts, this is great news for Dallas, who'll be taking the Ducks' Western Conference title and their spot in the Stanley Cup finals. Dallas-"_

Mallory shut of the screen. She leaned her head back and took a deep breath. Then she hurled the remote at the wall.

It shattered.

"Shit," she muttered as she went to pick up the pieces. Focusing on retrieving bits of the circuit board, she didn't pay attention as the doors swooshed open.

"Somethin the matter, sweetheart?"

Mallory jumped and turned to glare at Duke as he leaned against the doorframe, eyeing the pieces of plastic and circuitry.

"Why would you think anything's the matter?" she asked tersely, brushing a strand of hair out of her face.

Duke walked over, allowing the doors to close behind him. He bent down and picked up a jagged piece of the remote's circuit board. He turned it over in his hand and watched as loose transistors fell to the floor. "Just a guess."

Mallory grabbed the piece out of his hand. "Well you guessed wrong," she said, resuming her task of cleaning up the mess.

The older mallard resisted the urge to chuckle. "Whatever ya say, Mal," he replied, getting on his knees to help her.

They worked quietly, gathering and sorting all the tiny pieces. Once they were done, Duke collected all the circuitry and stood up.

"Gonna leave these in Tanya's lab," he said, breaking the silence. "She knows how ta get rid of this stuff."

Mallory nodded, focusing on the pile of plastic pieces in front of her.

Duke began walking towards the door.

"What do you do when you go out?"

He stopped and turned around. "Huh?"

"What do you do when you go out?" the redhead repeated.

"Out where?"

Mallory rolled her eyes. "Out to places you won't tell us about."

Duke stiffened. "Am I bein accussed of somethin?"

She cocked her head and glared at him. "We've done that bit before, Duke," she said. "You already proved yourself with Falcone."

He nodded, loosening his stance. "Stuff," he finally answered, still somewhat suspicious.

Mallory gathered the plastic pieces into her hands and walked past him. "Maybe 'stuff' is something I need to try," she murmured as the doors opened to let her past.

Duke wasn't sure if she was talking to him or herself. He shook his head and headed in the opposite direction.

* * *

Wildwing and Tanya walked into the kitchen that evening carrying pizzas. Duke and Grin were sitting at the table playing Rummy.

"I take it Phil won't be joining us?" Grin inquired as he lay down a run.

"Not a chance," Wildwing replied as they sat the boxes down.

"He barely said two words to us the whole drive back," Tanya added.

"How long was the drive?" Duke asked, picking up the card Grin had discarded, replacing it with one of his own.

Tanya thought briefly. "Well, with picking up the pizzas…I'd say about twenty minutes or so."

Grin looked alarmed. "Is he feeling ill?"

"Let's just say it was a rough afternoon," Wildwing said, setting out paper plates.

Duke nodded, focusing on his hand as Grin drew a card. The larger drake placed another run in front of him and discarded his final card. Duke looked at him in amazement. "Ya realize this makes twenty games in a row I've lost?"

"It happens," Grin replied as Nosedive came in.

The teenagers eyes widened at the sight of the pizza boxes. "Alright, Wing!" He helped himself to a couple of slices. "Hey, has anyone seen the remote? I looked all over the rec room and couldn't find it."

"Yeah, about that…" Duke started. "We're gonna need ta get a new one."

"Why's that?" Wildwing asked.

Duke sighed. "Like ya said, Wing, it was a rough afternoon."


End file.
